


Gifts of Healing

by Nalyra



Series: Tips of antlers, breaking free [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #HannigramHolidayExchange, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Christmas, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hannigram Holiday Exchange 2016, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Murder Husbands, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Presents, Rimming, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:45:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8789509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: It has been a shitty year after the fall and Christmas is around the corner.'Nuff said :)
______________________
 
This is my gift for '@yrgonnahaveabadtime' on Tumblr by way of the #HannigramHolidayExchange!! *Secret Santa bells jingling*
Ahem.I've been soooo touched by your little comment in the preferences (you know which one I think), and it... reflected into what I wrote. (Not that I can always predict where the story goes, haha..... my brain is weird). There are... discussions and a bit 'gritty' parts in regards to their relationship, because it just is so far out of 'easy', but all in all this is much fluffier than what I've written before :) - and it felt right, too. No gaslighting etc, just 'them', healing still, in a way. 
And gifts :).
I very much hope you enjoy your story!It refused to stay shortish and so I put it up in a few chapters, and also I tagged a bit more explicitly than I normally do because I don't know your preferences in this.
Happy reading!
 
[Because this has been an issue before - saved as Draft on 12/08, posted on 12/24]
Art is my own edit, from my main account, edited/adapted for this gift/story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [occamstireiron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/occamstireiron/gifts).



Will sinks into the armchair in the lobby of yet another nondescript hotel with a deep sigh, his voice mirroring utter exhaustion.

„This has been a shit year. Or at the very least the second half of it…“

Hannibal sits down on the opposite chair with a dull thud, only pretending to fare better. He clasps his hands in his lap, a weary sigh rushing out and Will smirks drily, indicating the bell boy in the back, waving them over.

„No rest for the wicked… At least the room seems to be ready now.“

Hannibal raises his eyebrows in slight annoyance and pushes himself up again, a short grimace crossing his features, his hand pressing to the scar in his right side for a moment. Will freezes mid motion, watching wearily until Hannibal shakes his head minutely, his voice low.

„It is alright, mylimasis. Let us go to the room.“

Hannibal straightens himself and turns slowly, taking the trolleys with him and Will follows suit, head lowered, trailing behind him, taking the key from the bell boy on the way. They enter the small elevator, Will pressing the button to the third floor with a grimace. Hannibal is silent next to him, grave and… flat. Dull. Exhausted again. Will closes his eyes and grinds his teeth, jaw working hard.

After the initial close call of their little cliff dive they managed to wash ashore in a small cave in the cliffs base, bodies bruised and battered. Hannibal had turned their bodies so he would hit the water first and Will shies away now from the memory of how he had to resuscitate him on that gravely little beach, twice, in the dim light and the freezing water, praying frantically to deities he did not in fact believe in. He had bound Hannibals wound with strips from his shredded shirt and then had dragged him up the hidden path, the journey surreal. He had stopped some unsuspecting soul on the street, breaking the neck almost without remorse, all feelings buried beneath necessity, the thought to return to his old life never crossing his mind. 

The first rancid motel had been a run down backstreet one, the owner recognizing and hiding them in return for the dead mans cash at first and then a quick death when he tried to sell them out after all. Hannibals wounds had gotten infected, as had his own, bathing the following weeks in that locked up backwater motel in a fever glow, waiting for the phone to ring in the few lucid moments, despairing and finally stubbornly refusing to when it does not. They had lost weight in those weeks, nourishment coming solely from the few candy machines and cans in the owners kitchen, chewing and ingestion painfully exhausting respectively.  
The first time that Hannibal had woken after his fever had broken he had looked at Will for long minutes and then nonetheless smiled at Will, just a twitch of his lips and Will had exhaled shudderingly, pressing a kiss to his forehead, his own lips still tingling from severe nerve damage. 

They went from shady motel to shady model after that, stealing their necessary equipment, trying to stay low. Hannibal had taken to only speak if he could hold onto Will somehow and Will, Will had not spoken for months, the infection in his cheek and tongue vicious and intense, eating painful. Hannibal had fallen silent for the most part as well, their company quiet and intimate, thoughts and actions conveyed by touch and brutally open gazes, unflinching. Nights had been spent in each others arms, just holding, honoring the unspoken agreement to not complicate -this- further, for now.

Two months later a messenger had finally knocked on their motel door, delivering a large hiking backpack for them. It had contained an assortment of medical equipment, identification, credit cards and cash, as well as a small MacBook and a letter, with Chiyos apology. Will had never asked what she had written, why she had been forced to abandon their plan, way too interested in the few clothing items in it as well, changing into them with a sigh of relief, feeling finally somewhat alive again. Hannibal had sneered at the letter, and then ripped it apart and Will had stepped over its pieces, barefoot, half dressed, jeans and shirt open, pushing his right hand to Hannibals chest and over his heart. Wills voice had been gravelly, unused and raw, words rough.

„It’s ok. We’re ok. It doesn’t matter.“

Hannibal had looked up at him from his chair at the table, eyes bloodshot still and unblinking and then had pulled him near, his arms coming around Wills waist, his face pressing into Wills stomach, breathing gently onto the scar, his voice almost inaudible.

„Mylimasis.“

That had been another two months ago. Will closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them again when the elevator stops with a small ‚ping‘, announcing their floor. The doors open and Will sighs darkly at the sight of the gaudy plastic Christmas tree, annoyed with a reason he cannot quite name.  
Hannibal watches him intensely, silent until Will walks down the hallway with his suitcase, relieved when he sees that their room is next to the emergency exit. He opens the room and they step in quietly, an astonished huffed laugh forced out of Will when the room is actually quite tasteful and, above all, clean. Hannibal steps up to him, his left arm embracing him from behind and the hand over his heart presses Will backwards for a moment, the lips in his neck there and gone again, a grounding touch that relaxes Will instantly.

Will covers Hannibals hand for a moment with both his own and then steps forward, dislodging it, stepping up to the window. The neon lighting in front of it bathes his face in eerie pinkish hues, the world beyond almost invisible. He hears Hannibal open the minibar and step up to him, a can of imported beer entering his line of vision and Will snorts, shaking his head before turning and grinning at Hannibal, an echo playing on Hannibals face. He takes it from Hannibal, their fingers brushing and Will opens the can, his fingers tingling. Hannibal reaches up and traces the scar on his cheek, mostly hidden by his by now wild beard. Will smiles softly and then takes a deep swallow, his eyes closing on the feeling and a moan escapes, making Hannibal chuckle. Will snorts at himself and then offers the can to Hannibal who shakes his head, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

Hannibal steps away from Will and then sits down on one of the two queen sized beds with a heavy thud and Will can see the grimace in the windows reflection, swallowing another mouthful of beer before he puts the can down on the small table and turns to Hannibal, exhaustion returning full force. He steps over and then sits down next to him, watches how the small jarring makes Hannibal grimace again in pain, the masks nonexistent between them since that night.  
Will reaches over with his right and pushes Hannibals shirt up, inspecting the now old wound by view. He sighs and drops the shirt again, eyes closing, voice carefully controlled.

„It’s irritated again, isn’t it. We should have stayed in that hovel and waited some more.“

Hannibal breathes deeply for a moment, his voice colored by reluctant amusement and fatality.

„The dragon knew how to inflict maximum damage without full immobilization. We are here and alive, anything else is unimportant now, Will.“

Will snorts and then exhales a shuddering breath, inspecting his fingernails for a moment, silent. Hannibal breaks his reverie, voice carefully neutral.

„Do you regret the choice you made?“

Will snorts and then shakes his head, his vision swimming suddenly. He snarls a bitter smile, turning to Hannibal regardless.

„No.“

He swallows and blinks rapidly his right hand coming up to cup Hannibals jaw, his smile turning more true slowly, voice firm.

„No.“

Hannibal turns his head slightly pressing into Wills palm and Will closes his eyes again, letting himself fall into the relief of a moment of peace. Hannibals voice is soft, non intruding and Will smiles softly, accepting.

„Do you know why I insisted on… upgrading our current lodgings, Will, despite the higher profile?“

Will snorts, more truly this time, the corner of his closed eyes crinkling. He shakes his head minutely, quipping slightly.

„The hopefully clean bathtub?“

Hannibal grins, teeth flashing for a moment, relishing the moment of levity, way too sparse between them for the last few months. He turns his face and presses a kiss to Wills inner palm, his breath tickling softly.

„No. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I wished to have access to room service.“

Will opens his eyes, nonplussed, locking them with Hannibals amused ones, frowning slightly.

„What?“

Hannibal chuckles, and then reaches up and takes Wills hand down and between his own, his expression truly amused now.

„Do you not wish to eat properly for once?“

Will snorts and then laughs softly, his fingers entwining with Hannibals left hand ones. He touches his left canine with his tongue, mirroring the amusement now.

„Oh god, yes, please.“

Hannibal smiles fully at him now, his voice soft.

„Very well then. We will discuss our further plans tomorrow over a true meal then.“

Will raises his eyebrows, squeezing their entwined fingers for a moment.

„There are further plans?“

A sly expression crosses over Hannibals face but he stays silent and Will smiles at Hannibal, grinning truly happily for the first time in months.


	2. Chapter 2

Will wakes up in the middle of the night, panting and drenched in sweat, shaking, coming to himself with Hannibal holding him, silently, the recurring nightmare a common occurrence now. Hannibal brushes the sweaty hair from Wills forehead and Will sobs, once, the image of Hannibal, dead and decaying still so vivid in his mind. He turns and then pushes his face into Hannibals chest, as close to Hannibals heart as he can get, feeling its beat against his forehead.  
They stay like this for a long time and then simply switch to the other bed, Will toweling off silently, no words needed between them. He falls asleep again with Hannibal holding him tightly, his arm grounding him, hand over his heart.

 

*****

 

Will wakes again because of the knock on the door, sitting up groggily. Hannibal opens the door and receives the tray, putting it onto the small table, the smell of coffee and rolls filling the room. Will smiles gently, receiving the cup with a suspiciously happy sigh, watching silently as Hannibal properly sets the table, a pang of … something in his chest at the domesticy. 

Will pushes himself up and steps over, lowering himself carefully into one of the chairs, watching as Hannibal finishes cutting up the bread rolls, slightly amused.  
Hannibal shoots him a look, picking up on it just fine, their antennas for each other finely calibrated by now, replacing words so often. He clicks his tongue and Will grins, softly quipping.

„Missing the cooking much?“

Hannibal purses his lips, pretending to be annoyed but Will can see the sparkle in his eyes. He sits down opposite of Will, extending his legs until he can push them against Wills, pushing until Will has to make room, grinning slightly, his voice deadpan.

„Yes.“

Will smiles, softly cackling before he sobers up, leaning forward to put the cup down. 

„I miss your cooking, too.“

Hannibal hums, reaching for his own cup of coffee.

„Despite everything?“

He takes a sip, considering Will with a tilt of his head.

„Despite knowing?“

Will leans back again and regards Hannibal for a long moment, a soft smile on his face, eyes warm, shrugging.

„I am here… To be honest, I never thought I would go so long without your cooking after I decided to set you free.“

Hannibal smirks at him, eyes flashing.

„Ah, how I wish I could have watched you play.“

Will tilts his head, expanding the opened subject carefully.

„Did you know?“

Hannibal raises his eyebrows for a moment, expression sly.

„I knew you were finally playing when you came to me to say ‚please‘, yes.“

Will narrows his eyes, tongue touching his front teeth for a moment.

„Why?“

Hannibal chuckles, amused.

„You mean, apart from the almost flirtatious tone in your voice?“

Hannibal smiles widely, inhaling deeply, his voice almost dreamlike.

„I could smell it…“

Will huffs a laugh, asking almost breathlessly.

„And what did you smell?“

Hannibal takes another sip of coffee, locking gazes with Will, black rapidly swallowing the red. His right leg presses into Will left, scorching where they touch suddenly.

„Elation. Arousal.“

He takes another sip, smirking at Will.

„Opportunity.“

Will swallows and then reaches for a roll, refusing to move his leg where Hannibal pushes against it with his own. It’s ridiculous, really, considering the fact that they have shared the same bed for months now, and yet, yet… He clears his throat and blushes slightly when Hannibal openly chuckles at that, the memories conjured surprisingly pain free.  
Will looks down at his breakfast roll and starts to put butter on it, his gaze flitting over the ring still on his finger, and he averts his gaze again, fast, the feeling it elicits… irritating. And alien, almost. He raises his eyes again when Hannibal speaks again, softly inquiring, of-fucking-course having picked up on it.

„Do you regret leaving them behind?“

Will pulls a grimace and puts down the roll and the knife, taking his coffee instead, both hands gripping tightly. He rolls his shoulders, back popping and shakes his head at himself, voice brutally honest.

„No. Yes. Both. It wasn’t planned, you know. She just simply managed to reach me and it helped during…“

Will stops, fumbling for words. Hannibal watches him, silent and intense, his gaze a lead weight and Will sighs, words leaving him in a rush.

„It helped during your trial. As you know I refused to testify… and fortunately Alana and Frederick did the rest.“

The temperature in the room seems to drop suddenly and Will pulls another grimace, furious at himself and the world in general, forcing himself to continue.

„Molly made me feel normal. There was enough for a… simple life. And I…“ 

Will pauses again, his eyes coming up finally to lock again with Hannibals.

„I needed that badly.“

Hannibal almost doesn’t react to this, face a careful constructed mask of neutrality and Will shakes his head slowly, his words imploring now, his right hand finger thumping on the table for emphasis.

„You knew it would all go to hell the moment you took that bone saw out, Hannibal. You knew.“

Hannibal draws in a sharp breath, face a mask of pain for an instant, there and gone again. Will snarls quietly, some of the old fury rearing its ugly head, words hissed now.

„I begged you… begged, for you not to sedate me after Chiyo shot me. Because I knew you would fall back into old patterns of coping if you did.“

Hannibal averts his face at this, his eyes closing. Will swallows harshly, closing his own eyes and forcing the fury back down, the scar on his forehead throbbing in phantom pain for a moment. He exhales in a rush, once more shaking his head at himself, before cackling a laugh, grinning when Hannibals head whips back towards him, voice grimly amused.

„Ahh, it really is interesting that we never talked about this before, isn’t it? I mean, we only ever talked about necessities and my nightmares and our wounds these past few months… But never our history.“

Will puts the cup back down, almost cold now anyway, deciding to take the proverbial bull by its horns. He holds his hand up when Hannibal wants to speak, taps his finger, once, and his voice when he speaks instead is eerily steely and yet kind, echoing somehow between them.

„Freddie called us ‚Murder Husbands‘.“

He pauses, eyes narrowing, watching Hannibals pupils dilate ever further, seemingly stunned into silence by the change of topics. Will smiles through the old pain, lets it drop away, head slightly tilted, voice almost inaudible, offering.

„I don’t think there has ever been a more apt description for what we are.“

He pauses again, amending.

„What we will be.“

He sees Hannibal swallow and then pushes himself back and gets up from the table stepping around it. Hannibal looks up at him and then pushes himself back to do the same, cracks in the mask allowing uncertainty to bleed through and Will grins suddenly, moving forward fast and he kneels over down over Hannibals lap, one leg kneeling on the left side of Hannibals hip, the other stretched out behind him, his arms holding them both apart a few inches. Hannibal looks up at him, unflinching, slightly fazed at this new behaviorism and yet already helpless to it, if the way his hands grip and release on Wills hips is anything to go by. Will bends a bit lower, their faces so close now, air mingling, his voice low and rumbling.

„I was so sure you would kiss me on the cliff, you know?“

He slowly licks his lips, feels how Hannibals pulse picks up speed, as does his breathing. So very different from murder, Will muses quietly and grins for a moment, just a tad sardonically. Will lowers his head, eyes flicking back and forth, whispering.

„Why haven’t we kissed yet, Hannibal?“

The hands on his hips clench for a moment and Hannibal blinks, slowly, the reddish red hue of his irises almost eclipsed by black. Will hovers his lips over Hannibals, only millimeters between them now, swaying a bit, his own eyes closing with the feeling, electricity running through them already. His lips twitch in a smile, voicing the answer to his own question, so obvious, now, the phrasing doubling as a statement.

„Because you will not force me… Not anymore.“

Hannibal exhales shudderingly and Will drops forward, moaning when their lips touch properly, a shiver running down his spine at the feeling. He tilts his head slowly and their lips glide softly, just fitting together, softly tugging in an age old dance. Hannibal shivers beneath his fingers and it’s enough to break something free and Will opens his mouth further, feels Hannibal pull his lower lip in, the sensation of teeth there and gone again, making Will jerk.

Will pushes his hands up Hannibals shoulders and then locks them in his hair, pulling his head sideways and something clenches in him when Hannibal just follows the movement, lips falling open and Will takes advantage, his tongue going deep. The kiss turns deep and wet and messy suddenly and Will moans into Hannibal, feels the answering groan, the hands on his hips pressing him forward tightly. Will chases after the elusive taste of Hannibal, a small part of him wondering how they could have ever done without this, shivering when Hannibal returns the favor, sucking on Wills tongue for long moments, suggesting something else and Will breaks the kiss or better kisses after long moments, his forehead descending to Hannibals, gasping and then chuckling softly. He licks his lips and hums, feels Hannibal swallow, the soft click of his throat somehow utterly debauched. 

Will hums again after a moment, pushing his hips forward until he can feel the answering hardness, retreating again, swallowing harshly, his voice raw.

„Well, that answers that, then.“

Hannibal snorts beneath him, the base sound weirdly elegant on him and then tilts his head up and kisses Wills forehead, his hands pushing Will back slightly until he can look him in the eyes properly, both their gazes emotional raw and open, hungry. Hannibal smiles softly, eyes narrowing an instant.

„Did you doubt this?“

Will raises his eyebrows and shakes his head for a moment, mouth opening and closing silently. Eventually he shrugs, huffing a laugh.

„Not really. Though, since I have no… personal… frame of reference it’s nice to know it won’t be a problem.“

Hannibal draws back a bit further, eyes narrowing again, curiosity stealing into his voice.

„You do not?“

Will blushes slightly and then frowns, eyes narrowing in turn, defiant annoyance stealing into his voice.

„Well, theoretically I know literally all about it, since, as you know, sexual behaviorisms are rather prevalent in profiling. I was never much interested in… personal relationships before I took up teaching at Quantico though.“

Hannibal tilts his head, his face betraying deep curiosity and Will sighs, explaining a bit more.

„I had my share of… offers. But I only took up a few one night stands, all women because it was more.... familiar and all definitely -not- connected to my private life and/or job. I did not want anybody with me when I came home. I wanted to be able to kind of ‚drop‘ from the minds of people. And I succeeded quite well, for a while.“

Will tilts his head in turn, eyebrows raised.

„All changed with you, or better being thrown right into a mess of relationships, all interconnected when Jack refused to take no for an answer.“

Will snorts, self deprecatingly. 

„Didn’t help with the sex life though.“

Hannibal opens his mouth and Will raises his hand, finger out, voice gruff and yet demanding.

„Don’t. Just… don’t. Don’t go there. We’ll need to discuss all that when we’re celebrating our 20th wedding day or something.“

Hannibal huffs a gentle laugh and then nods once, acquiescing, voice amused.

„Very well, mylimasis.“

Will swallows and then has to ask, the need to know never before so keenly felt.

„What does ‚mylimasis‘ mean?“

Hannibal smiles truly now, corners of his eyes crinkling, coming up to whisper it against Wills mouth.

„Beloved…“

He presses up and catches Wills lips and Will falls forward, literally falling into the kiss, drowning in a helpless rawness of feelings. He deepens the kiss slowly, tongues stroking leisurely now, kissing for kissings sake. Wills stomach growls and Hannibal chuckles into their kiss, hands tightening on Wills hips once more and Will pulls up slowly, licking his lips, voice low.

„We should eat…“

Hannibal licks his own lips and Will swallows, feels Hannibals hands press him forward for a moment, making them both groan slightly, resulting in an almost chuckle that breaks free, and Will forces himself back and off of Hannibal, stepping back and dropping into his own chair with a sigh. Will pushes his fingers to his lips and then smiles at Hannibal, seeing the soft echo on Hannibals face before turning back to his food, anticipation settling deep in his gut.


	3. Chapter 3

They spend the day making extensive use of the spacious bathroom, and especially the bathtub. Hannibal cuts his hair and Will trims his beard back down to stubble and then hesitates, scratching through the hair along his jawline. He purses his lips and then takes it off fully, an almost stranger staring at him from the mirror afterwards.  
Hannibal stops cutting his hair and steps up to him, carefully stroking along Wills cheek, his eyes dark. He leans close and carefully holds Wills face so he faces the mirror, licking along his jawbone slowly, and Will lets his eyes close with a groan, lets himself fall into the arousal this action elicits. Hannibal breathes across the wet skin for a moment and Will erupts into goosebumps, drawing breath harshly. He opens his eyes again and locks them with Hannibal in the mirror, letting his own hand fall down slowly, reaching back, hovering over Hannibals crotch. Hannibal lowers his head a fraction, his expression a mix of dangerous adoration, eyes glinting. His voice is low and gravelly, sending another shiver down Wills spine.

„Thank you for this gift, mylimasis. I have never seen you without, after all.“

Will swallows and then grins, somewhat ruefully.

„Well, I look like I’m 20 after all… Never appreciated the reactions this triggers.“

Hannibal purses his lips, head lightly tilting, tone softly teasing, whispering into Wills ear.

„I promise you will appreciate my reaction, mylimasis.“

Will moans and then snorts, pulling away from Hannibal, wryly adjusting himself. He grins and then waves at Hannibal indicating the forgotten scissor.

„Hold that thought. And now, go and finish that hair cut.“

Hannibal grins and touches his tongue to his right canine for an instant, voice deeply amused.

„As you wish.“

Will swallows and then grins, waving towards the scissor once more before closing the door behind himself, heart beating in his throat. He inhales and grins, before taking a few dollars out of their cash, resolute suddenly. He steps out and walks down the hallway slowly, not quite so annoyed by the gaudy Christmas tree anymore, deciding to take the stairs down. He steps past the lobby exit and turns towards the general mens room, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees the condom machine, and equally glad he seems to be alone. He puts the money in and then hesitates, weirdly hesitant to actually pull the little drawer. Will shakes his head and then takes them out, swallowing and entering more money, trying desperately not to blush when he pulls the lube out, taking the steps back up with big steps, heart hammering when he returns to their floor. 

He hesitates next to the Christmas tree, emotions a whirl wind and then takes his ring off with jerky movements, putting it on a twig in the back, almost invisible from the front. He clenches and unclenches his left hand for a moment, the missing weight weirdly freeing before starting down the hallway, heart in his throat.

Hannibal is there on the bed, hair short again, reminiscent of the cut he had in prison, clean shaven and regal looking in jeans and shirt, his head coming up immediately when Will opens the door, none too discreetly smelling the air, eyes narrowing and Will curses inwardly, for once in over 6 months having preferred a moment of quiet contemplation to his company. He closes his eyes for a moment and then steps forward, putting the condoms and lube onto the nightstand between the beds silently, his left hand lingering on them, the lighter sliver of skin on his finger drawing Hannibals gaze. Will raises his eyes to Hannibals and his heart skips a beat when their gazes lock, a rush of emotions traveling between them.

Hannibal swallows and then pushes himself up, stepping towards Will, hand coming up to cup Wills head, thumb stroking softly. He leans forward and ghosts a kiss to Wills lips, whispering against them.

„Anything you wish, Will.“

Will releases a shuddering breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, the knot in his stomach releasing after a moment, his body relaxing again. He shakes his head and then laughs softly at himself, trying to quip.

„It’s only sex, isn’t it?“

Hannibal laughs with him, but they both sober up quickly, Hannibals voice amused and yet deadly serious, grave.

„It will never be ‚just sex‘ with you, Will.“

Will swallows harshly, the knot of anxiety returning, voice trembling a bit, reflecting dry amusement.

„I might need something fortifying…“

Hannibal laughs softly, pressing another kiss to Wills lips before stepping back, smirking.

„I ordered something with our dinner.“

Will shakes his head and then rubs his face with his hands, voice muffled behind them.

„Ahhh, we should just fuck on the table and get it over with.“

Hannibal chuckles and then clicks his tongue, tone warm and yet carrying a dangerous undertone.

„Language, dear.“

Will snorts and then drops his hands just in time to catch the MacBook Hannibal throws at him, eyebrows rising in surprise. Hannibal indicates the notebook with a little wave of his hand, tone dry.

„Miss Lounds deemed us worthy of another headline. Why don’t you read up on it and I prepare the room for our dinner?“

Will looks around their room, half unpacked suitcases, clothes and cans from the mini bar littering it. He shrugs and then grins, scooting back on the bed, the wry thought that somehow he has been smiling more than the whole last year taken together running through his mind, making him feel warm.


	4. Chapter 4

Will sighs deeply and then closes the MacBook with a small thud, making Hannibal look up from where he repacks their suitcases, one always prepared for departure with half of their possessions as well as their most important ones, like identification and cash. He smirks at Will, zipping the trolley closed, his voice amused.

„I assume Miss Lounds was rather… naughty once more?“

Will exhales through his teeth, shaking his head in consternation.

„She’s still riding the ‚Romeo & Juliet - who cares?’ approach, and, guess what, she’ll release a book on New Years Eve, titled ‚Star crossed murderers‘“.

Will rolls his eyes, snark entering his tone.

„I wish I’d really sliced the ginger back then.“

Hannibal pauses for a moment and then continues to pack the other suitcase, silent. Will grimaces and puts his right hand over the ‚smile‘ for a moment, wondering at how some things never truly heal. He looks over at Hannibal, truly looking for once, sees the silvery hair and the wrinkles, deeper now than just 6 months ago, pain and infection and fleeing taking their toll. Something in him clenches and he swallows painfully, pushing himself off the bed and kneels down beside Hannibal, his hand coming forward, pressing gently over the Verger mark. 

There is a knock on the door and Hannibals head lowers a fraction for a moment, before he pushes himself up, answering the door, Will closing his eyes in slight annoyance at the interruption. He expects their dinner and frowns when Hannibal receives a small package instead, softly closing the door again. Hannibal turns and then comes back to Will, still on the floor, slowly lowering himself to the floor next to Will. Will watches wearily, strangely unsettled, watching how Hannibals fingers slowly open the little package, a wrapped little parcel appearing. Hannibal traces the wrapping for a moment and then shifts and sits down next to Will, back leaning against the bed, waiting until Will follows suit, frowning. Hannibal offers the little parcel to Will and nudges him with his shoulder.

Will takes the little parcel and unwraps it, a leather collar dropping into his lap, the little golden nameplate glittering in the low light. Will blinks confused, raising his eyes to Hannibal, voice haltingly deadpan.

„You want to collar me?“

Hannibals eyes flash and he leans very near, whispering into Wills ear.

„Maybe later…“

He huffs a laugh and Will turns his head, searching his eyes before lowering them again to the collar, frowning. He turns the little nameplate, the name ‚Ardella‘ engraved on it and traces it, understanding on an emotional level already, tears threatening though his brain refuses to keep up, words not coming to mind.  
Hannibal smirks at Will, teeth flashing for an instant before sobering up, his voice grave.

„I wanted to discuss this with you over dinner, but, maybe this is the better moment.“

He pauses, watching Will blink rapidly, trying to understand so desperately. Hannibal reaches over and takes Wills left hand, tracing the bones and veins in it, voice low and almost hypnotizing.

„She is part of our ‚further plans‘. As a … minimal recompense for the failed pickup after the fall, I have instructed Chiyo to prepare a place for us. Ardella will wait for us there, in a little sea side village on Cuba, probably in dire need of some training.“

Wills vision blurs and then clears, tears trailing down his cheek, his voice shaking.

„You… made a place for us.“

He licks his lips, tasting salt.

„Again.“

Hannibal nods, searching Wills eyes.

„A place, for you and me.“

Hannibal pauses, fingers tracing Wills hand still, gazes locked. The next words are whispered, imploring.

„There are no extradition laws, Will.“

Will nods shakingly, finishing the thought.

„If we make it there, we’re free…“

Hannibals right hand comes up, gripping Wills neck gently, his tone brooking no argument.

„We WILL make it there, mylimasis.“

Wills closes his eyes for a moment, his whole soul hurting with sudden longing, dropping his gaze to their linked hands, squeezing softly. When he raises his eyes again they reflect sudden steely resolution, matching Hannibals.

„Yes. We will.“

 

****

 

Dinner arrives shortly after and Will does not even question the ordering of the way too expensive champagne, or the broiled duck, the ‚mousse au chocolat’, thoughts still sluggish and yet racing.   
He clinks their glasses when Hannibal offers his champagne flute and then downs the whole glass, silently asking for refill. Hannibal smirks and then pours the champagne again before starting on distributing their food, apparently quite happy with the quality. Will inhales deeply, watching, memories of moments long past flitting by. When he speaks his voice is dreamlike, bordering on rapt.

„My Dad used to buy Duck for Christmas as well. It was always too dry, and the vegetables were soggy.“

He snorts and then shakes his head, taking another deep swig of champagne.

„I loved it.“

He twirls the stem of the glass in his hand, watching the liquid swirl around in it.

„It was the only time he would take the time to not work on one engine or another, truly sitting down to eat with me.“

Hannibal finishes with his preparations, sitting down opposite of Will, eyes glittering in the low light.

„Is he still alive?“

Will swallows and then downs the second glass of champagne as well, feeling the buzz hit him slightly already. He smiles painfully, putting the glass carefully down.

„As far as I know… He… We only talked once a year, to be honest, at Christmas, actually.“

Hannibal refills Wills glass once more, contemplating for a moment, his voice calm and grounding.

„You should call him, then.“

Will snorts, teeth flashing for a moment, voice flat.

„We can’t.“

Hannibal purses his lips, head tilting in consideration. 

„We cannot stay here for more than this night, either. You could call him tomorrow, before we leave.“

Will swallows and then smiles, taking his cutlery.

„I feel like I’m getting spoiled here… I didn’t even think about getting anything for you…“

Hannibal hesitates and then reaches over, his right hand clasping Wills left for a moment, his fingers pressing onto Wills ring finger for a moment, voice almost inaudible.

„You already have.“

Will swallows harshly and then puts the cutlery back down and steps over, bending down to press a kiss to Hannibals lips, tugging softly for a moment before whispering against his mouth.

„Not enough, not yet.“

He pushes back and returns to his seat, quite pleased with himself when Hannibal discreetly clears his throat, shifting in his chair.


	5. Chapter 5

Will groans deeply, feeling utterly stuffed, chuckling at himself, voice shaking.

„Oh god, maybe that third helping wasn’t so clever after all.“

Hannibal smirks, indicating the bowl on the table.

„Mousse au chocolat?“

Will snorts and then starts to chuckle, shaking his head, holding up his hands.

„Please, no, not anytime soon.“

Hannibal looks at him for a long moment and then stands and holds out his hand, waiting. Will stands up slowly, taking it and follows the suggestion when Hannibal pulls him near, the slight food lethargy not quite dropping away with renewed excitement. He grins ruefully, whispering, somewhat contrite.

„I don’t think I can, just now. Too full.“

Hannibal chuckles and then embraces him slowly, starting up a swaying motion.

„We have all night… And, there is no pressure, Will. Just dance with me, now?“

Will raises his eyebrows, surprised and amused, voice laced with feeling.

„I hereby inform you that I in all likelihood will step on your feet though…“

Hannibal smirks and then reaches behind Will to grab his phone from the sideboard, tapping it a few times until soft jazzy music fills the room, putting it back again, after. His arms lock in the small of Wills back, and Will exhales slowly, his arms coming up and over Hannibals shoulders, holding on.

It’s not truly dancing, really, just swaying, and Will lets himself fall into it, eyes closing, the warm puffs of Hannibals breath on his cheek.  
Hannibal pulls him in further after long minutes, their bodies slotting together, Hannibals head descending onto Wills softly and Will copies the motion, his own coming to rest over Hannibals collarbone, inhaling deeply.  
He presses a kiss to the skin there, feels the soft hum against his own chest, a sigh escaping him in response. Will returns the hum, fingers starting to play with the small hairs in Hannibals nape almost absentmindedly, nose pushing against Hannibals pulse. He chuckles once, softly, voice low.

„I miss your old aftershave…“

Hannibal turns his head and presses a kiss to Wills hair, taking the sting out of his response.

„I do not miss yours, I must admit.“

Will snorts and bites playfully at Hannibals collarbone, accessible through the open shirt collar, the next step in their game happening utterly natural suddenly.

Hannibal chuckles and then undulates against Will, sending a jolt of electricity through Will. Hannibals breath hitches on his next inhale and Will smiles to himself, swallowing when he feels the effect against his hip. He raises his head slowly, lips brushing along Hannibals jaw, eyes closing. He feels Hannibal straighten slowly, feels how Hannibal swallows in turn. 

Will presses his lips to the corner of Hannibals mouth, just catching and holding, the soft sway they keep up pressing and releasing, a tantalizing temptation. Will opens his mouth just slightly more, touching his tongue to the outer edge of Hannibals upper lip and Hannibal groans, turning his head into the touch. Will smiles sharply for a moment and then turns the hovering touch into a proper kiss, slow, deep wet heat sending tendrils of want down his spine. Hannibal smiles into their kiss and Will moans in return, chuckling when Hannibal turns him, suddenly, dipping them both while keeping the kiss. Will moans into it and then breaks it, licking his lips, whispering.

„All this time. I always knew you would be a hopeless romantic.“

Hannibal draws back slowly, eyes flicking back and forth between Wills, serious and intent, just watching for long moments, his voice gravelly with emotion.

„In hindsight, I believe it was love at first sight.“

Will exhales shudderingly and then straightens slowly, forcing Hannibal to do the same, the moment almost serious suddenly, laden with emotion and meaning. He swallows and then repeats words of another life changing moment, so long ago now.

„Fate and circumstance have brought us to this moment… make love to me, now.“

Hannibals eyes close for a moment, the lines in his face deepening with the emotional toll, voice raw.

„I tried to reverse time, unsuccessfully. I am grateful… that the teacup did come together, after all.“

Will reaches up, his hands softly gripping Hannibals head, thumbs stroking, voice soft and laced with gentle amusement.

„It is our beautiful kintsugi. At least…“

Will touches his left canine with his tongue, expression sly.

„At least, we can resolve your penetrative issues another way this time.“

Hannibals eyes snap to his, flabbergasted, and Will laughs at him, outright and carefree, turning to huffs of laughter when Hannibal starts to tickle him, making Will writhe in his hold. Will stumbles against the edge of the bed and lets himself fall back and Hannibal follows him onto the bed, crawling over to him, still tickling anything he can reach, eyes dark and intent, an almost dangerous expression of concentration in them.

Will turns to his side, trying to squirm away from those fingers and then rolls to his stomach, still laughing deeply and then the laughter dies in a deep moan when Hannibal settles on him, covering him from head to toe, hips pressing down into Will, the sentiment clear, robbing Will of breath.

Hannibal bends forward, his voice low in Wills ear, just on this side of kind danger.

„Are you sure, mylimasis?“

Will raises his head a fraction, eyes closed, turning his face to Hannibals, words carried on an exhale.

„Show me… make me yours.“

Hannibal growls at him and then pushes his lips to his neck, biting down hard, and Will hisses, wondering if he will bear a scar there as well, but Hannibal releases him again after a moment, skin unbroken, moving down his body. Will tries to push himself up but Hannibal pushes him down again, holding for a moment and Will settles down again, accepting. For now. Hannibal slowly takes off Wills shoes and socks, softly tracing the soles, Will trying not to squirm this time.  
He reaches down and under Will, slowly and carefully undoing his belt, the soft movements pushing against him and Will moans low in his throat, the sound dying, mouth open when Hannibal hooks his fingers under Wills boxers and pulls them down with his trousers, leaving him half undressed and feeling utterly out of his depth and oh so aroused. Will turns his head and looks towards the window when the weight on the bed shifts and he sees Hannibal get up in the reflection, pull off his shirt and shoes as well.  
The bed dips again and then Wills legs are moved apart slowly, his breath coming in short pants now, fists clenching on the duvet, somewhat unbelieving, his heart hammering in his throat.

Hannibals voice is gentle and yet steely, unrelenting and yet kind, sending shivers down his spine, Wills brain taking a second to process them.

„Have we not wondered about this moment for so often it seems unreal? For you to trust me to do this, a gift unto itself. And more so, this, you, now, trusting me to do you right without much foreplay, trusting me to do you right in this.“

Hannibal leans forward, voice very low.

„And how beautifully aroused you are, by this, by our history in the shadows of our relationship, written in blood and pain and desire.“

He pauses, fingers tracing over Wills tailbone, sending shivers everywhere. Will tries to form words but Hannibal beats him to it, words intense.

„My brave and vicious boy. How you tempt me. And yet, I believe that for you to enjoy this we need to make sure you -know- you will enjoy this, first, Will.“

He leans forward again, breathing the words against Wills left ear, fingers pushing a stray curl back behind it.

„And I will make sure you -know- you will enjoy this. If you allow yourself to.“

Will swallows, harshly, trying to form words, throat dry. He closes his eyes for a moment and then turns his head a bit, eyes locking with Hannibals, the word leaving him in a rush.

„Please.“

Hannibal bends down and then presses a soft kiss to Wills temple before he moves down again and Will swallows harshly, again, trying to gather his wits, Hannibals intent quite obvious. He closes his eyes, trying to breathe calmly, the effort utterly in vain when Hannibal pushes his legs further apart, slightly spreading him, bending down to touch his tongue down, dragging it over his entrance, the wet hot cold heat wiping Wills brain clean. He is dimly aware of his muscles locking and of Hannibals hands forcing his legs down again when his hips rise but it all centers to that soft wet glide, so indecently good even the moans get stuck in Wills throat, only erupting in almost tortured pleasured agony when the tip goes in, touching -almost- something that and promises to be oh so good. Hannibal starts to alternate the movement, pressing in more firmly after a while, dragging a whine from Will when he retreats, given freely in the dim realization of pure wanting, this, now. Hannibal hums his appreciation of the sound and Will jerks, gasping, the sound traveling through him. Hannibal draws back and chuckles darkly, softly, gently, his whisper piercing through the fog in Wills befuddled mind.

„And now you will come, beloved.“

There is a wet sound and then a slight pressure, a finger pushing in in one unrelenting motion, curving down in a precise movement, the hand on Wills cock almost an afterthought in perceived sensations, the double flares of pleasure melting into an unstoppable drop into ecstasy and Will falls, his vision whitening out, his body vibrating under Hannibals hands.

He comes to himself slowly, hissing when Hannibal withdraws his hand, moaning unbelieving when that finger presses down gently, sending almost overloading sensations through his body, before it is removed, tracing the rim gently. He hears Hannibal get up and step into their bathroom, washing his hands and returning with a towel, wiping Will down gently, grinning at him when he follows the suggestion to turn onto his back with a deep sigh, black red eyes locking with blown blue. Hannibal raises his eyebrows with a slight smirk and then returns to the bathroom and Will can hear Hannibal brush his teeth, blushing slightly.  
He raises his arms sluggishly, pulling off his own shirt, dropping it carelessly on the floor and slipping under the blanket, sighing when the cool linen settles on his skin, his gaze falling onto the lube and condoms that he placed there, his blush deepening. He hears Hannibal return and then step up to the bed and Will smirks wryly, tone a bit self deprecatingly.

„Guess you were right.“

He pauses and then clears his throat, the blush creeping back up.

„To be honest, I would have thought you would lick my come off your fingers…“

Hannibal tilts his head, resplendent in his half clothed arousal, tenting his trousers, utterly unashamed. Will swallows and then holds up one of the corners silently, dropping it again when Hannibal sits down on the other bed, taking off his other clothes, answering slowly, playfully.

„And there will be times that I will do this, mylimasis. But, the first time that I taste you, I wish to share the taste with you, after.“

Christ. Will closes his eyes and wonders at the jolt of lust that runs through him, his body almost ready again. He raises his eyebrows, looking down for a moment, amused, only halfway joking.

„You didn’t put viagra into my food, did you?“

Hannibal chuckles warmly, standing up again, and Will swallows, taking him in, the reality of them daunting, still. Hannibal bends down to him and slips into the bed, settling next to him, close but not crowding, knees touching, the heat felt but not intruding. Not yet. He purses his lips, eyes crinkling, voice low.

„A prostate triggered orgasm can have the effect of a shortened recuperation period. A truly splendid development to find it has this effect on you.“

Will snorts.

„Splendid?“

Hannibal leans close, whispering, eyes sparkling.

„Indeed. I intend to put it to good use.“

Will licks his lips, closing ever more in, words whispered against Hannibals lips.

„Does it have the same effect on you?“

Hannibal smirks, eyes boring into Wills.

„You will have to find out yourself.“

Will grins and then reaches for him, the kiss happening naturally, lips gliding softly and tongues stroking deeply, their bodies coming together after a moment, and Will moans when the skin touches everywhere, knowing it must feel even more intense for Hannibal, deprived of any pleasant touch not his own for three years before their fall after all, this the first time that they fully let themselves allow to feel it. ‚Skin hunger‘ Wills mind supplies the name for the need with, there and gone again when Hannibal opens his mouth wider, going deep, their bodies entwining closely a deep tug of need echoing along Wills soul.

Hannibal pushes ever closer and his hairs scratch over Wills chest, and the sensation shivers through Will, not quite unfamiliar by now because they have shared a bed so often, yet still weird in this context. He undulates against Hannibal, hands going around to his back, fingers brushing the Verger mark there and Will breaks the kiss, panting, eyes flicking back and forth between Hannibals.  
He traces the lines and indents there, the scarring softened by time and yet very much discernible, Hannibals expression carefully neutral until Wills lips twitch in a snarl, its echo suddenly freely displayed on Hannibals face. Will presses forward and kisses him, harshly, just a moment, whispering afterwards, almost hissing.

„I hate his mark on you…“

Hannibal drags his hands from Wills hips up to his head, holding it tight, voice low and dangerous with a strange undertone, fingers stroking over the almost invisible scars on Wills face.

„I believe I would have stripped their skin from their bodies with a spoon if they had succeeded in mutilating you.“

Will draws back, eyes narrowing.

„A spoon?“

Hannibal raises his eyebrows, eyes glittering.

„I believe it would have hurt more.“

Will tilts his head, contemplating for a moment, before asking, unbelieving.

„Did you just… make a… quip over our combined fucked up history? And by quoting a rather shitty movie?“

Hannibal regards him for a moment and then chuckles, deeply, the almost instant sobering up again after a moment killing off the rising annoyance in Will instantly. Hannibal speaks again, all the amusement gone from his voice, low and intent, fingers pressing, almost cruelly.

„I have slaughtered everybody in my way to find you on Muskrat farm. When I was able to smell you at last, he had already started to cut.“

Will closes his eyes, allowing the memory, sharing knowledge never before admitted, voice almost inaudible, eyes reopening to bore into Hannibals.

„I heard you…“

Hannibal freezes in his arms for a moment, eyes averted. His tone is flat when he answers, and Will seethes quietly for a moment.

„I was not aware that you were awake.“

Will snorts, shaking his head minutely in Hannibals grip.

„Would it have made any difference?“

Hannibals jaw works for a moment, his lips pursing.

„No.“

Wills fingers dig into the old marking, his nails drawing blood, his voice a stark counterpoint, soft and almost dreamlike.

„You told Cordell that you were the only one allowed to hurt me.“

Will pauses, scratching his nails slightly.

„Because we belong to each other.“

He pauses again, drawing a sharp breath.

„And then you started to smash every bone in his body… except his face, if the police reports are anything to go by.“

Will licks his lips, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

„Sometimes, I can still hear him scream. And feel how your hand touched me, after…“

He pulls his one hand forward between them and moves Hannibals right hand from his head down, and over his heart.

„… here.“

Hannibal swallows, sounding tired with the memories.

„And you knew how to defeat me then, did you not. By sending me away.“

Will pulls him closer with his other hand, holding now, pressing gently.

„There is no defeat between us. Or winning. We’re a zero-sum-game. When I defeated you I defeated myself.“

Will blinks slowly, making a conscious effort to let the past drop away once more, paths taken and accepted, months ago. He presses his nose against Hannibals, softly, his words a crass counterpoint, following a stray thought.

„Did you touch yourself in prison?“

Hannibals eyes snap to his, black and dangerous, glittering almost coldly, the hand on Wills chest moving to brush his left nipple. 

„You know very well that I was awarded various liberties for good behavior, however, privacy was not among them.“

Wills eyes narrow, gasping quietly when Hannibal squeezes, before moving down and over to place his hand on his back thigh, pulling Wills leg up a bit. He drops his hand between them, reaching for Hannibal, his cock hot in his palm, the skin unexpectedly satiny and enticing in his hand, loosing his train of thought for a moment before forcibly recovering it.

„Did that always stop you?“

Hannibals hand wanders higher and over, his finger pushing between Wills cheeks, just stroking. He leans forward and softly tugs at Wills upper lip, teeth scratching, his cock in Wills hand twitching.

„No.“

Will groans, his imagination kicking into overdrive. Hannibal licks along Wills cupids bow, words caressing his lips.

„I touched myself, there, in full view, only once though.“

He pauses, finger softly pressing now, retreating and returning, the dry pressure weirdly exciting and Will forces the word out, panting.

„When?“

Hannibal bites into his mouth, a bruising kiss, forcing his tongue in, withdrawing almost immediately, licking the sting off of Wills lips, his whispered words raw.

„After you said your good-bye. I wished…“ 

He pauses, snarling slightly, eyes fathomless black.

„I wished to have the experience at least once, with your smell still in the air.“

Will groans quietly, knowing the answer.

„You jerked off right there, against the air holes, didn’t you….“

Hannibal smiles sharply, all teeth, dangerous.

„I truly scared my wardens that day. Something I wasn’t really able to relish, until now…“

Will snorts, his hand slowly picking up movement, the foreskin enhancing the feeling of strangeness. Hannibal echoes the grin for a moment and then reaches back and retrieves the small package of lube from the nightstand, ripping it open, returning his hand to its previous location calmly, the wet cold glide making Will shiver. Will sighs and whispers, nudging softly with his face.

„Kiss me…“

Hannibal hums in appreciation and closes in, the soft kiss in stark counterpoint to how Wills heart beats fast suddenly, the finger pressing in, and Will opens his mouth in a startled groan, Hannibal taking advantage right away, going in deep, twin points of sensation taking Wills thoughts. Hannibal synchronizes the movements of his finger and his tongue slowly and Will moans sharply, the wet hot glide almost distracting enough, the sound triggering a wetness against Wills hand and he moans again, the realization unexpectedly erotic, thumb slowly spreading the precome and Hannibal groans harshly into his mouth, his finger touching that spot and Will breaks the kiss, throwing his head back, panting harshly. Hannibal licks at the hollow of his throat and then moves down, breaking Wills hold of him and licks at Wills nipple, keeping soft rolling movements of his finger up now, weirdly enticing. 

Hannibal moves lower, pressing a kiss to Wills sternum, hesitating for a moment until Will presses him down towards the smile with his right hand, fingers in Hannibals hair holding him there, feeling the shuddering breath against the scarred tissue. He softly draws his fingers through the strands, waiting, knowing.  
Hannibals lips press to the entry point of the knife slowly, retreating again and then he leans forward again, softly biting at it, the sharp sudden pain masking the addition of a finger almost completely, making Will jerk against him. 

The movement starts again after a moment and Will grimaces, the feeling alien and almost painful, Hannibal missing that spot apparently on purpose. Hannibal licks along the smile and then moves lower, dipping his tongue into Wills belly button. Hannibal softly presses Will onto his back, lips almost there, almost touching, his stubble scratching, fingers gliding more easily now, still feeling alien. Will drops his head back onto the pillow, Hannibal across his right leg now, left lightly propped up, his eyes closing with a soft mewl when Hannibals tongue touches the head, softly dipping in. Hannibal shudders and then mouthes at the head, eerily silent, the quiet broken by Wills groan.

„Please…“

Hannibal sighs against him and then swallows him down in one fluid motion, the fingers pressing down the moment Will hits the back of Hannibals throat, making him see stars, rearing up slightly. He falls back, panting harshly when Hannibal pulls back up, grins and does it again, slowly and carefully establishing a rhythm of almost enough, broken by long pauses until Will can breathe again when he gets too close. At some point Hannibal locks his lips under the crown and sucks and Will opens his mouth in a silent scream, feeling it gather, the sharp counterpoint of another finger nudging him back harshly, pain flaring for a moment, mingling with pleasure.

„Fuck…“

Will realizes after a moment that it is his exclamation, this time not met by a reprimand, grimacing when Hannibal moves his fingers again, the burn intense now and yet so strangely pleasant, promising something he has no reference to yet. Hannibal pulls up and away, groaning harshly, carefully moving up without dislodging his hands, hovering over Wills lips for a moment, eyes enquiring softly.

Will smiles almost painfully, deeply appreciative of the choice and then reaches up and pulls him down, the taste of himself making him groan and shudder, mixing with the moan released into his mouth, the mixture intoxicating. The fingers press up and pleasure explodes and Will mewls into the kiss, his body getting with the program slowly, oh so slowly, relaxing around the intrusion, wildfires starting on the glide within.

Hannibal draws back and then presses a quick kiss to his lips, his forehead coming down to Wills for a moment, eyes glittering, soft and wild and brutal, his voice awed.

„So delicious you are, my beloved.“

Will swallows and then pulls him down once more, their teeth clashing in a deep kiss, trying to convey and hide in equal measure. Hannibal presses his fingers up once more and Will undulates, his cock pulsing, shaking his head after, gasping.

„In me, now. Or I’ll come.“

Hannibal pauses, mouth open, eyes dark, his voice reluctant.

„Maybe you should, Will, it would relax you more.“

Will shakes his head, whispering.

„No no no no no. Now.“

Hannibal pushes his forehead down once more, voice softly intense.

„It will still hurt.“

Will cackles breathlessly, drawing his fingers through the silvery hair, eyes flicking back and forth.

„One more first time then… my gift for you.“

Hannibal exhales a shuddering breath and then withdraws his fingers, making Will hiss. He reaches for the condoms and Wills hand shoots out, gripping his hand, trying to put the feeling into words.

„I… I’m clean. Had to take the test again for my FBI employment insurance, even if only temporary. And I know you are, too. I…“

He pauses, gaze flicking back and forth between Hannibals eyes.

„I don’t want anything between us.“

Hannibals pupils dilate impossibly further and he swallows, nodding slightly and reaches for the lube instead, Will watching breathlessly as Hannibal applies the rest of the lube and then positions himself, pushing and retreating, feeling huge. 

Will draws his legs up and wraps them around Hannibals waist, mouth dry. Hannibal reaches forward and pulls the pillow out from under Wills head, positioning it carefully under Wills hips, grinning slyly at the slight frown on Wills face. He nudges and stills, leaning forward slowly, taking Wills hands into his own, their fingers linking, and pushes both their arms up and over Wills head, the air between them crackling. Will closes his eyes for a moment, nostrils flaring, not enough air between them, feeling light headed. Hannibal licks his lips, his voice almost inaudible. 

„I won’t stop. It is easier that way, ultimately.“

Will swallows and then nods in jerky movements, feeling Hannibals hands tighten, pressing his arms down, feels the expansion of Hannibals chest against his own as he draws a deep breath, Hannibal leaning down to kiss him. Will mewls again, softly, and then pulls his legs up even further, instinctually, feeling wet and open and… He almost screams when it happens, all thoughts gone, the scorching heat forcing itself into his body, unrelenting, the burn intense, the wounded sound he makes swallowed down by Hannibal with a growl, pressing, pressing until Wills body gives and Hannibal slowly bottoms out against him with a deep groan, holding.  
Will grits his teeth, panting harshly through them, pupils blown, his body on fire, feeling it in his throat. Hannibal locks gazes with him and waits, waits until the need for … something supersedes the pain suddenly, and Will twitches helplessly, relaxing minutely, trying to draw deep breaths. He shakes his head, sweat running down his temple and Hannibal leans forward, licking at a drop, whispering.

„Tell me when to move, mylimasis.“

Will pants an almost laugh, shaking a bit in reaction, his lips forming the word, eyebrows raised, latching onto this, onto anything to relieve the pressure.

„Move…“

Hannibal hums and then withdraws slightly, drawing a snarl with the flaring burn from Will and then a mewl when the need shifts, unexpectedly, aching for more again and Hannibal huffs a relieved laugh at the sound, pressing back in softly and unrelenting, Wills body much more accepting already. Will closes his eyes and concentrates on the myriad of weird feelings running through him, the slow rhythm of pull and press growing less and less painful, leaving a dull ache on every move, sparks of pleasure flaring up sometimes and Will finally and rather sluggishly realizes Hannibal does it on purpose, misses the spot on purpose, his eyes flying open. 

Hannibal grins down at him, his face a mixture of amusement and adoration, tinged with brutally obsessive need, tempered by love and Will swallows, letting himself fall into this feeling, accepting fully, here, now. He smiles suddenly and Hannibals eyes crinkle and then he shifts and Will gasps with the iridescent pleasure triggered by the action, a dragging push against that spot making him see stars. He snorts and then hisses playfully at Hannibal, not quite able to stay serious, now that Hannibal does hit the spot on every move, gasping the words in between sparks of pleasure.

„You bastard, you did -not- hit that on purpose…“

Hannibal huffs a laugh and then answers between soft pants, pressing a soft kiss to Wills lips to soften the words.

„One must know in order to judge.“

Will chuckles and shakes his head, unsurprised and somehow relieved by this small cruelty, this game between them something he knows so well. He licks his lips, sees Hannibals gaze snap to them, and grins before sobering up, words low, panted.

„I wish to see you undone, Hannibal.“

He swallows, words imploring now.

„Lose yourself in me, my love.“

Hannibals eyes snap up at the endearment and something in them shatters, the almost brutal kiss that follows salty and base, hurting in quite another way, breaking them both wide open. Hannibal lowers himself down onto Will fully and then slows down, carefully hitting that spot still, but not directly on anymore and Will lets Hannibals hands go, pulling his arms down and embracing him tightly, feels Hannibals arms lock again under him, behind the small of his back, tilting Wills hips some more and entering a dance again, quite different this time and yet the same. 

The kiss gentles after a moment, the movement a rolling of hips, taking them higher and higher on every move, swaying escalating pleasure, their movements increasingly wild, until Hannibal slams into him, hard, once, into that spot. The actual climax hits Will almost surprisingly, his staccato groans swallowed by Hannibal, wet heat spurting between them, whitening his mind, the intensity blinding, his heart reaching, reaching, their darkness merging. Hannibal presses a kiss to his temple, after, and then buries himself deep and then stills, his seed a hot imprint within Will, triggering aftershocks, breathless intensity between them. 

Will slowly pushes his nose into the sweaty skin of Hannibals throat when he comes down from the high, bodies still connected and sticky now, inhaling deeply. He chuckles and then groans, voice gravelly with echoing lust and emotional satiation and exhaustion, lips brushing against skin.

„Ah, I like this even better than your old aftershave.“

Hannibal chuckles against him, face hidden in the juncture of Wills neck and shoulder and Will smiles softly, hearing the almost suppressed sniff just fine, his own eyes suspiciously wet. He clears his throat, and Hannibal comes up slowly, eyes haunted and glittering, an expression of defiant unashamed vulnerability on his face and Will smiles a wavering smile, repeating the words, voice deliberately tender.

„Yes, I do love you, Hannibal.“

He grins, a tear escaping his left eye, taking the sting out of the words, whispering.

„God help me but I do.“

Hannibal almost snarls, painful elation crossing his face, carried on old hurts and desperate hope, the kiss he presses to Wills lips so pure it hurts. Hannibal raises up again and then presses another kiss to Wills forehead, voice low and gravelly.

„I will not let you go, now.“

Will closes his eyes, the truth reverberating through him, the annoyed defiant echo suspiciously absent. He sighs and then smirks, tilting his head, eyes kind.

„You better… Guess we’re really Murder Husbands then… stuck eternally with each other.“

Hannibals gaze gentles almost imperceptibly, something obsessive and dangerous gentled by Wills acceptance, and he presses another kiss to Wills lips, holding for a long moment before he withdraws in one slow move, making Will hiss. Hannibals dark eyes watch him for a moment, drinking it in and Will knows he should be annoyed by this but there is only acceptance in him now, his path realized and chosen. 

Hannibal moves down a bit and then pushes two fingers in, and Will rears up, snarling, pushed back down by Hannibals hand, Hannibals voice calm and collected, firm.

„I need to know how much I have hurt you.“

Will closes his eyes and then drops back, still a bit annoyed at the handling, making a mental note to address this later. The fingers press into his prostrate and he looses the thought again immediately, nerves oversensitive with pleasure still. Hannibal hums and then withdraws his fingers, cleaning them uncaring on the other blanket, a relieved note in his tone.

„You did not tear.“

Will shakes his head, both at him and the words, right hand coming up to trace Hannibals jaw, softly quipping.

„It sure felt like it… I seriously doubted it would fit, you know.“

Hannibal smiles at him, eyes soft again, corners crinkling before sobering up again, voice awed.

„You gave me a great gift.“

Will tilts his head, echoing words of moments long passed, consciously allowing the memory.

„And you… you did want it.“

Hannibal swallows, his head dropping onto Wills stomach, breath tickling the smile there. He traces Wills ribcage softly, Wills hands dropping to his upper arms to allow room for the movement, the air between them thrumming with truth. Hannibal presses a kiss to the smile, voice brutally open.

„I want it all, mylimasis.“

Will scratches his fingers over Hannibals scalp, smiling. He grins suddenly, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter.

„I think I want some Mousse au Chocolat now…“

Hannibal stills for a moment and then nips at the skin of his stomach hard, pressing into his sides and tickling him for a moment, before getting up with a put on huff of annoyance, crossing the room stark naked to fulfill Wills request. 

Will swallows harshly and wipes away the treacherous tear that wells up with the onslaught of feelings, his lips unable to do anything else than smile.


	6. Chapter 6

The phone rings five times before it is picked up, the voice on the other end gruff and annoyed, yawning.

„Graham.“

Will purses his lips, eyes on Hannibal as he finishes packing up, oh so nonchalantly seeming as to be not listening in. Will smirks and then huffs a laugh, finally answering the silence on the line.

„Hey, dad…“

There is a long silence on the line again, and Will pulls a face, nodding to himself before forcing himself to go on.

„Surprise, I’m not dead after all… But then I guess they told you that when they bugged your phone.“

His dad snorts on the other line, voice slightly amused.

„See, I didn’t even have to tell you through some obnoxious weird metaphor. Didn’t stick around though, though I bet they’re probably pissed at me to confirm it anyway…“

Will nods to himself, eye on the little arm on his watches clock face, ticking away.

„I’m sorry, but I might have to change that aftershave, dad…“

His father hums, and Will can hear the click of the tongue, his mind supplying the almost annoyed expression just fine. He smiles when he hears the soft acceptance in the tone, wiping at his own eyes almost angrily.

„Well, I hope you like his better then… I…“

His father pauses and Will closes his eyes, swallowing, his fathers words reaching him like from far away.

„I hope you are happy, Will. It’s all parents want, really…. I hope it’s worth it.“

Will opens his eyes, the tears falling freely, his voice soft but unwavering.

„It is, dad. I am finally myself.“

His eyes lock with Hannibals, stepping up to him, slowly. Hannibal bends down to him, his voice carrying softly, brooking no argument.

„And he is loved, I can assure you.“

Will smiles a wavering smile and then closes his eyes again when his father speaks, with a deep exhale.

„Well… that’s good then.“

Will draws a deep breath, nodding slightly to himself.

„We need to go, dad. Merry Christmas.“

Another short silence on the line and then his fathers voice, gifting absolution and forgiveness, peace descending on Wills soul.

„Merry Christmas, Will. Be happy, you two.“

There is a click and then the line goes dead and Will smiles through the tears, putting the phone down slowly and letting Hannibal pull him up after a moment. He shakes his head to clear it an then exhales shudderingly, letting it all drop away with a sigh.

„Where to now?“

Hannibal tilts his head to the side, a smirk playing around his lips.

„Would you like to combine pleasure with business, beloved? I have information that Frederick has travelled to Cuba to recuperate… and hide.“

Will grins, picking fluff off of Hannibals lapels.

„Well, how very fortunate… for us.“

Hannibal traces his jaw, his lips ghosting a kiss to Wills mouth, their souls entwining, like a net of dark antlers, reaching and grasping.

„Indeed.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> MERRY HOLIDAYS!
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> I would love to hear what you think, but in any case I just hope you enjoyed it and that you have awesome holidays!
> 
> *hugs*


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